Springer
by tuck
Summary: Written for a Jerry Springer challenge prompt. They are not mine, they're JEs I'm just playing. Merry Men fic, Babe implied. Warning for Language, Mature. Yeah, it'll probably be TBC. Crazy muse!


**Author's Note: Language warning here. Yep, the muse found another shiny thing labeled Jerry Springer Challenge. And her vocabulary started getting really colorful! And then, Ber cracked at me a few times, so I got her challenge in too at the end! The point of view of this shifts a little, which I'm not use to doing. But, hope you enjoy!**

_**Why you with a girl when u could be with a woman?**_

She pressed send and tucked her cell back into her coat pocket.

Smiling, she brought the binoculars to her face and did another sweep of the perimeter.

She could sense the aggravation, waves of it, rolling off the occupant of the seat next to her.

"Problem, Santos?" She kept her tone even. Neither one of them enjoyed working a shift together. She didn't feel like provoking him. Yet.

"Not if you can keep your focus where it belongs."

"As the clown prince of Rangeman, I don't see where you get to question _my_ ability to get the job done."

"Yeah. Well, fucking with the Boss is usually where I draw the line."

She shifted in her seat, uncrossing her legs then re-crossing them again. Her skirt rode up, revealing slightly more of her fishnet clad thighs.

Santos suppressed an eye roll. Did she really think her attempt to distract him would work? She's probably one of the few women he'd refuse to fuck. Not if she begged, not if she paid him, not if she was triple jointed, not if his life _depended_ on it.

He glanced at his watch. There had been no visible activity in the last hour and a half. In another hour, he'd be out on the prowl looking for some company. He was in the mood for blonde and leggy, though he had a weakness for redheads. He could always try for one of each. He shook his head. Dumbass. Now you're not focusing! Which was probably her intent in the first place.

"Ranger shouldn't fuck with me." She muttered.

Or _wouldn't_ fuck with her, was what she really meant. Santos really didn't want to go there. He could not believe the Boss _actually_ had. He didn't want that visual…..shit. He grimaced. Great, he'd be stuck with that picture for now, until he could busy himself…well, bury himself, somewhere nicer. Again he shook away those thoughts. He heard her sigh, but kept his gaze fixed on the building.

"I thought our intel was specific to tonight?" She grumbled.

"Probably he partied too hard, went to bed early. We know his dealer was by earlier."

She took out her phone and checked the time. "Great, so I can look forward to another hurry up and wait session in the near future." She paused. "His dealer?" Her eyes flashed. "What other information was kept from me. I'm going to fucking belt him. Unbelievable! What if the asshole expects his companions to get high before they—"

Santos' cell chirped. "Do your job." He told her.

He dug his cell back out and read the message. It was Tank.

_**You two about ready to call it a night?**_

Santos began to text. She turned his direction and glared. He paused to stare back at her. Ok, so her face wasn't exactly horrible to look at. Her hair appeared to be silky and soft, even when she wasn't glammed up to play Hooker Barbie. Her curves were ample, waist tiny, and her legs did go all the way down to the floor.

"What!?" Her eyes flashed and her cheeks flushed in anger.

Santos felt his cock twitch, so there was _some_ potential in her. She always seemed to be full of ire, probably had great stamina to match. He may have to reevaluate his refusal.

She pointed a bright red finger nail at him. "What the fuck did you say to me?" She stabbed her finger into his chest.

Unfuckable. Abso-fucking-lutely unfuckable. Ranger had to have been out of his mind, sex-starved, to tap that. The jury was still out on whether he actually had done her.

She began to poke at him again. He grabbed her finger and gave her a glare. She yanked her hand back and folded her arms across her chest. Tearing his eyes away from her black leather bustier, he looked straight ahead. Not even with Tank's dick. Shit, Tank! He went back to texting.

_**Oh HELL no! We don't want this moment to end, so cover us in chocolate and throw us to the lesbians.**_

He pressed send. Then turned back to the she-witch.

"Do. Your. Job." He repeated. "This is not your first time. You know how the game works. You get in. Get close and get started. We hit one of his places, and while he's distracted, you plant the bugs. He gives you trouble, you improvise. He'll most likely kick you out so that he can go himself to assess the damage. If not, you stun and run."

He glared. "You're always given a choice, and you're compensated more than fairly. So cut the bullshit, you're not mad, you just want an excuse."

"Fuck you, Santos!"

Here we go again! "Surveillance with you is more than enough, thanks, but don't say I never warned you."

"About?"

"Fucking with the Boss."

Santos' cell chirped again. Again, it was Tank.

_**All I really need is Lula's love, but a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt. Head out. The guys are meeting at Rascal's.**_

Jeanne Ellen's cell chirped. When her face contorted into a scowl, Santos could tell immediately who it _wasn't_ from.

He started the car and headed for Rangeman. He had to have a talk with Ranger. He was not sitting through another shift with this cougar. Next time Ranger dropped Jeanne Ellen to run and help Steph, he was getting someone else to cover for him.

"Fucking voice mail." She grumbled. Probably trying to call Ranger.

"Tank said.."

"Yeah. I got one too. 'Reschedule is up to Ranger.'" She growled.

Santos' cell rang.

"Yo!"

"You meeting up with us?" It was Cal.

"Soon as we part ways."

"Just checking. Tank thought you might try to declaw the she-beast instead."

Really? Tank wanted to play, huh?

"Really, Rascal's, you don't say? Sure, I'll tell her. I'm sure she'll be glad to let Tank apologize for not giving her all the details. First round is on me."

"Wait…what!?"

Santos closed his cell. He looked over at her and saw the evil grin on her face.

He'll give Tank a close up of her claws.

TBC?


End file.
